If That Is My Apollo's Wish Version 2
by guineamania
Summary: SEQUEL TO WITHOUT MY APOLLO'S LOVE! All ended well for Enjolras and Grantaire but in the turmoil that is their love ... that cannot last long. One wrong move is all it takes to send Grantaire spiralling. Glimpses of their hidden pasts have come back to spite the pained lovers. Will their love survive? Will they return to how they were before? Or worse? Also in Books!
1. Chapter 1

_**14/6/13**_

**I'M BACK! Here is the sequel to my ff Without My Apollo's Love. If you have not read WMAL then this may make sort of sense but I strongly advise that you read that before starting this one to get the full benefit. The response I got to WMAL was outstanding and I hope that this follows down the same path. Please review to tell me if you like and so I make sure you have made it!**

**If That Is My Apollo's Wish**

**Chapter 1**

Enjolras blinked his eyes open in the morning sunlight. His head was resting on something hard yet soft and warm at the same time. He blinked the sleep out of his mind; he was laid on Grantaire's bare chest with his head rising slowly in rhythm with the drunkard's breathing. Grantaire looked so peaceful in sleep; his brown hair hung tousled around his ear and his lips were curled into a small smile. Slowly the night before began to come back to him. _"What's wrong Apollo?" Grantaire asked, wincing as he moved to quickly. Enjolras sighed preparing a lie to feed to the winecask but he couldn't lie to those eyes. In moments like this, Grantaire took on a childlike innocence which made you either want to slap him for manipulating your emotions or hug him because he was so damn adorable; no one could lie when faced with the puppy dog look shimmering through his twinkling brown irises._

_"I don't want you to die!" he blurted out before his mind knew what was happening. Once the mental dam surrounding his emotions had been breached, everything came to the front. "I don't want you to die! I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me because I am mostly certainly not worth you losing your life over. I am sorry for all the things I said; I really am … but that was just my way of distancing us because I didn't want to acknowledge the feelings I had towards you. I'm only telling you now because of how it affected me when I thought you were dead." The words flew out of Enjolras' mouth without a thought to how to say it or whether this was the right time to confess his heart's secrets to the injured hero._

Enjolras swore to himself. What did he think he was doing saying all that? He did love Grantaire but … but he couldn't be like that. The revolution had to come first. The revolution was everything and love had to come second. He couldn't be in a relationship and lead France to freedom; it would take up the time that was needed to prepare. Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut as tears threatened to squeeze out. He had to pretend that he didn't care; even if it was tearing him up inside. His heart pounded as he looked up at the face of his love. _"I love you Grantaire and I cannot hold it in anymore, I feel as if it is eating me up from the inside and I hope you still love me like I love you because if you don't then I …" Enjolras had not noticed Grantaire's slow movements until the drunkard's lips where upon his own. Well … that answered my question, Enjolras thought with a childlike glee as he pushed himself closer to Grantaire. Unsurprisingly, Grantaire's lips tasted of alcohol like he always imagined but what was more entrancing was his smell. You would think that someone like Grantaire would smell of smoke and booze but he didn't; Grantaire smelt of paint and mint. It sounds like a strange combination but on the drunkard it was natural; it smelt right, like that was the smell of Grantaire. They slowly and cautiously broke apart as Enjolras' heart thumped inside his ribcage like it never had before. Grantaire grinned at him with that smile that usually accompanied the glee when Grantaire was noticed or had managed to beat Enjolras in a battle of wits._

He needed it stop this. He needed to get out before Grantaire managed to make him stay. Unfortunately the drunkard woke up as Enjolras moved on his chest. Just his luck that Grantaire was a light sleeper. "Morning Apollo," Grantaire smiled; his brown eyes were twinkling with joy which you did not usually see on the winecask. This was the happiest Enjolras had ever seen him and it broke his heart to have to leave. But the revolution was more important; if they both lived and Grantaire was willing to forgive then maybe they could make this work. Until then though, Patria was his mistress and he had no time to entertain the prospect of love. Grantaire leant down to kiss Enjolras' blonde curls; the decision was made. He could not do this. Enjolras flinched away from Grantaire's touch.

The hurt and shock instantly became visible on Grantaire's face at Enjolras' movement; the pain struck him in his very core but his mind was set. He quickly stood up and smoothed his clothes down. "I'm sorry Grantaire but we can't do this," he murmured, trying not to let the emotion show in his voice.

"Do what?" Grantaire asked. "If you are not comfortable sharing a bed then that is fine. I'll stay on the divan like I used to," he added almost desperately. His tone made his heart twist and speed up at the innocence of the heroic drunkard.

"Us … in a relationship," Enjolras blurted out. "It's not going to work," he added as a hurried afterthought. He knew that if they tried it would but; he just couldn't, not now.

"What? Why?" Grantaire asked almost desperately, struggling to his feet. Enjolras desperately wanted to push him back into the bed and tell him that he was being an idiot for thinking he was leaving with that hip. But he knew, he knew that as soon as he touched Grantaire's warm, tanned skin then he would never be able to go through with this. He needed the drunkard, but the revolution needed him more than he needed personal happiness. Enjolras could feel his heart being torn to shreds with every word he spoke.

"I need to focus on the barricade. I can't have any distractions," he mumbled. Enjolras could almost hear his own heart plead with him to take all that back and that the winecask in his arms once more. But his head knew what was best. Emotions would make him weak and weakness did not have place in a revolutionary leader. The marble façade had returned and he was back to the marble statue Grantaire always accused him of being.

"Did last night not mean anything to you then? I love you Ricard!" he screamed at Enjolras. That was the first time Enjolras had ever heard Grantaire used his first name. They just didn't use first names; it was just a thing. The use of it now just amplified the desperation resonating through Grantaire's voice. He wanted to take everything back. He really did but it could not be done.

"It did mean things to me … but I need things to back to what they were before," he stated, refusing to look Grantaire in the eyes. He knew that those eyes could be his undoing.

"How it was before," Grantaire echoed with tears in his eyes before he snapped to action pulling his shoes on and making it unsteadily to the door. His russet eyes sparkled but it wasn't with the joy Enjolras was dying to see. They sparkled with unshed tears, sorrow and self-loathing. Enjolras didn't want to make his love feel this way but, but the revolution had to be his whole focus. Nothing could get in the way of freedom. Not even his personal freedom. Grantaire stopped at the door. "Nothing will ever be the same," he mumbled and hobbled out. Enjolras felt his head spin and his feet try to step forward after Grantaire He almost started reaching out with a hand but fought against such an urge. Grantaire never saw Enjolras' true emotions come out for that split second. The open door swung in the whispering wind as Enjolras' love was gone again.

Enjolras slowly shut the door and sat on his bed. His head sunk limply to rest on his hands with an exasperated sigh. What had he done? The last time he said he didn't want Grantaire around; the man had tried to kill himself. Someone knocked on his just closed door. Enjolras heart lifted at the thought it might be Grantaire. He wanted his boyfriend back, he really did. Enjolras hurriedly swung the door open and was stood face to face with a little gamin. "Message from Grant'air," he announced, offering his hand out for payment. Enjolras pulled a note out from his pocket and gave it to the kid. "'E says, don't come looking for im. E won't die or nuffin and you will 'ear from im soon," the boy recalled before darting off. Enjolras couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief that Grantaire wasn't contemplating suicide once again. He had to get over the drunkard; the revolution was his life. The marble returned to his features as he sat at his desk. One final tear ran down his cheek before all emotions were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**18/6/13**_

**Thanks to the reviewers! I love that you have seen this through to the beginning of the sequel!**

Almost An Actress – Thanks baby, honoured to have you!

Darci the Thespian – I would have liked to keep them together … but then my reason for him breaking it off would be void.

MademoiselleKraut – Maybe they will … maybe they won't

Stagepageandscreen – Aww sorry sweetie. He needs your hugs

TotaltotheMax – He is the king of foolish choices, and it is ok to love my sadistic writing ;)

**Chapter 2**

It had been three months; and still there was no sight of Grantaire. After Grantaire had returned back to life and they had all taken him home, Courfeyrac had been determined that they next day they would both arrive together at the Musain hand in hand. He had even bet fifty francs on it with Bahorel. What they hadn't expected was, come the next morning, for Enjolras to walk in alone. He just arrived with a pile of books and notes and sat down in the corner like nothing had ever happened. Courfeyrac had instantly glanced to the door expecting the drunkard to follow at a respectful distance. He never did. Grantaire had never returned and his departure was a taboo subject with Enjolras. Anyone that even mentioned Grantaire's name was shot down in a ball of fire by their leader. But that never stopped them worrying about him and looking for him; who knows what the drunkard would do to himself. This whole incident from before proved his point.

They had spent weeks hunting the streets and underhand establishments all of Paris; all the places he used to frequent before this. That was why Courfeyrac was surprised when he just saw Grantaire walking down the street one morning. Grantaire had obviously been trying so hard to hide from his worried friends but no he had finally slipped up and Courfeyrac pounced on the first chance he had. He blended in with the crowd and practically snuck up on the drunkard. "Grantaire," he shouted and grabbed his arm as the winecask made to run. Grantaire let out a groan and turned around to face Courfeyrac. He was certainly worse for wear. Grantaire had never prided himself on his appearance like Courfeyrac did but everywhere they went he was slightly smart; smart for a drunkard. But now he wasn't; his clothes were torn and dirty and hung loosely on a too thin frame. His eyes were hollow but the most worrying sight was what was hidden behind those brown eyes. Complete and utter indifference; no emotions, no thoughts lurked in their depths. It was a truly unsettling to see his friend in such a state he was almost unrecognisable compared to the real Grantaire. Something had gone seriously wrong since they last saw the drunkard and Courfeyrac was not leaving until he knew what.

"What's happened to you 'Taire?" Courfeyrac asked, gripping Grantaire's arm.  
"Nothing is wrong," Grantaire replied. Even his voice was emotionless and empty. Courfeyrac realised that without Enjolras in his life, Grantaire was a shell. He was devoid of all the life and spirit he was infamous for unless he had people in his life to sustain it for. Grantaire needed the Amis; he just thought they were better off without him. They most certainly weren't better off without him and even if it meant beating some sense into that stupid head of his, Courfeyrac had to get him to understand.  
"Don't use that line; it is almost as bad as 'I'm fine!'" Courfeyrac exclaimed, his grip tightening on Grantaire's arm.  
"I'm fine," Grantaire practically growled, wrenching his arm viciously away from Courfeyrac. "And I thought I told Enjolras not to look for me and not to let you lot do so," he snarled turning around.  
"Come back R, we all miss you," he pleaded, standing in Grantaire's way.  
"Well, I have a life now without you guys! I don't need you anymore!" he snapped, pushing Courfeyrac out if his way and disappearing into the crowd. Courfeyrac desperately searched for his lost friend; but he was gone once again.

Courfeyrac arrived at the Musain before Enjolras and so instantly dived into his monologue of how they had to save Grantaire. "He wasn't good, _mes amis_. He was empty, like a shell!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, thumping his fists on the table. "Why will you not listen to me?" he cried out as his friends sighed. He could not understand why none of them wanted to help their friend. Grantaire was an idiot sometimes but he still needed to be helped; he was still one of them at heart.

"If he says he is better off without us then there is nothing we can do. Are you sure you weren't just thinking he needs us?" Combeferre sighed and Courfeyrac glared at him. He could still see Grantaire's lifeless eyes boring into his, and his emotionless voice echoed in his mind. Grantaire was never emotionless; he was easy to read unless he had something to hide. He was certainly hiding something and the others had to understand this.

"I am not making this up!" Courfeyrac cried out desperately. They needed to save Grantaire; he certainly needed saving there was no doubt. He always needed them, he was nothing without them, He couldn't have moved on without talking to them. There was something wrong with one of his best friends and no one was listening to him. "I'll save him by myself then!" Courfeyrac screamed and pushed out of the door past a confused Enjolras.

"What's wrong with him?" Enjolras asked, looking out the door after Courfeyrac; everyone fell silent. Grantaire had become a taboo subject around their leader and everyone was reluctant to bring him up. All apart from one that is; Combeferre was the only one that dared face the wrath of Enjolras.

"Grantaire," Combeferre replied with a shrug. Enjolras glared at him and his body instantly tensed. "Courfeyrac is worried about him. He says that Grantaire's not doing well without us," Enjolras' best friend explained calmly while everyone else subtly backed away.

"Well, he can come back if he wants," Enjolras snapped, secretly wishing he would come back. He hated that Grantaire was suffering but his mind was still focused on the fact they could not be together until this was all over.

"What has happened between the two of you?" Combeferre asked and the rest of the amis winced at his brash statement. They all had been thinking it; but Enjolras was scary when his anger was directed at you. The fury built in their explosive leader but Combeferre just stood firm in front of him. If one person could still the storm that was raging amongst the Amis then it was Combeferre, their guide.

"Nothing!" Enjolras exclaimed defensively. It was obvious to his brother that there was something wrong but he could not openly challenge Enjolras like that in front of his followers. He knew that there were limits to how much he could try to change Enjolras' views for the better before the stubborn revolutionary would just shut himself off from them all. That moment was on the verge of these limits; it wasn't worth pushing. "I am just saying that maybe it isn't entirely bad Grantaire is gone. And if he wants to come back then he can walk back in any moment," he explained with his fury lessening by the second. He dropped his papers on the table with an almighty thump. "Does anyone else have anything they want to get out of the way before we begin?" he asked with a slight snarl as if he was challenging anyone else to speak. No one spoke up and Enjolras nodded. "Then we can begin the meeting properly," he stated, pulling out a sheet of paper and laying it on the table.

Courfeyrac had returned to the alley he saw Grantaire disappear into in a vain attempt to find his friend. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen, but it didn't look good. This was on the edge of gang border; this was where the Grantaire family started to take over from Patron-Minette. The realisation dawned on him; Grantaire had gone home. No one knew about Grantaire's past apart from Combeferre and Enjolras who only knew the barest of details about what happened before he left. Courfeyrac sat on the floor leaning on the wall; maybe he had made up with his family, maybe he actually had people to care for him now. The Grantaire family were well known and Grantaire could be respected with them. He couldn't spoil that for him. Eventually Courfeyrac stood up again and look down the alley. He looked one more time and turned away to walk home. He couldn't help feeling that he was leaving Grantaire and throwing away his loyalty to the drunkard; but it had to be done.

Grantaire stood in the darkness of the alleyway, watching. He hated doing this to them all. But they didn't need him, give Courfeyrac a day or two then he would have forgotten all about that chance meeting. Grantaire slid down the wall and sat with his head on his hands. It would be lying to tell himself that he didn't need them. He needed them with all his heart but his heart was shattered now. He could not return to Enjolras; things would never be the same after what happened. His heart wouldn't be able to cope with seeing the marble god then was almost his. People walked past the alley staying well clear of his slumped form. "Oi _petite belette_!" a gruff voice shouted from the entrance. Grantaire sighed standing up.

"I'm coming _gros lourdaud_," Grantaire shouted back before walking over.

"What have I told you about talking to me like that Little R?" the man snarled.

"I don't seem to remember Louis," Grantaire replied as he approached. The giant of a man, Louis Grantaire, cuffed Grantaire around the face, nudging his already swollen eye.

"I said don't!" he snarled, pulling Grantaire along behind him. "And we have work to do!" he added with a smile to the rest of the members of the Grantaire clan.

**These are the translations to the French insults:**

_Petite Belette – Little Weasel _

_Gros Lourdaud – Big Oaf_


	3. Chapter 3

_**21/6/13**_

**Thanks to all the people that are reviewing and reading this story!**

Darci the Thespian – Eponine will feature later in this story, I am just not that good at writing her so I try to keep it to a minimum. But she is key in how it progresses. And yep Grantaire's family is a gang, sort of rivals to the Thenardiers/Patron Minette.

EmmaLaird – You never know!

TotaltotheMax – I thank you *bows theatrically* And poor Courf … Enjolras needs to change, but it depends how long I drag it out for. Carry on loving the sadistic!

Twitchtail – Who'd've thought … Robin de Courfeyrac, with sense ;)

**So … I am away on and off for the next week. I have my school leavers ball tonight (which is why I am writing this note carefully as my nail polish dries!) then Saturday and Sunday I am on my Duke Of Edinburgh Award Expedition; for those who haven't heard of it basically I have to trek with a massive rucksack for six hours a day for two days … fun. And then from Tuesday to Thursday I am in London at Wimbledon (Tennis). Then Friday I am at a taster day at Sheffield Uni … So you are getting this update early, you lucky people, and you will get another on Monday BUT it is unlikely anything else will be updated due to the pure chaos involved in my life currently. I apologise profusely! **

**WARNING****: This chapter contains mentions of non-consent sexual activities! You have been warned, it is only a mention so nothing visual.**

**Chapter 3**

The five Grantaire brothers silently approached their target. Grantaire followed obediently until the street lamp shone on the building they were scoping. "No! We can't hit here!" Grantaire exclaimed in pure panic. The second floor of that building was Enjolras' apartment.

"Uh, yes we can wine-rat. The second floor, rich kid just moved back in recently," Louis explained to the whole group.

"E's not rich Louis, poor as the rest of us!" Grantaire frantically exclaimed, desperately trying to get them away. All four men chuckled and Xavier, the second oldest, battered him round the head.

"Is 'e sommet to you kid?" Louis asked.

"Is 'e one of your little revolutionary boys?" Xavier exclaimed with laughs from the rest. Grantaire fell silent staring at the dark floor. "It is!I bet it's the pretty boy, Enjolras!" Xavier laughed, kneeing Grantaire in the stomach when he responded, confirming the other man's suspicions. Grantaire wheezed and doubled over just to be battered face first onto the cobbles. Grantaire groaned and rolled over so he was facing the stars. Fredrick, another brother, added a kick to his jaw for good measure.

"I'm gonna scream, I'm gonna warn them here," Grantaire panted, lacking the energy to stand up once again. He had to save Enjolras, it was unlikely he would be out at this hour. If they found him in the apartment, then they would kill him. And Grantaire could never let that happen to his Apollo. Although, Enjolras wasn't his Apollo anymore.

"One little scream and you'll regret it for a year," Louis snarled, pulling Grantaire suddenly to his feet.

"Well I told you I'd do it, told you I'd do it!" Grantaire exclaimed, preparing to shout. Fredrick smacked him in the stomach with his staff. The air was smacked out of him and his body crumpled back to the floor. Louis held him up in the air by the roots of his hair. Grantaire cried out in pain but as soon as his mouth opened a gag was pressed roughly in and tied overly tight behind the back of his head.

"Tie him up, I'll deal with him once we have dealt with his pretty boy," Louis snarled, dropping him to the floor. Grantaire tried to shout through the gag but only slight murmurings penetrated the cloth. Fredrick and Francis, the twins, tied him to a metal grill securely. He couldn't move at all no matter how much he struggled. He had to warn Enjolras; if Enjolras could get out and be safe, then all would be fine. He struggled and struggled but none of his bonds came undone.

Enjolras sat at his desk; he had speeches to write and plans to draw up. And he couldn't face sleeping and the nightmares it brought. He heard a minor commotion outside but that was nothing unusual on the darkened streets of Paris. His apartment was in a slightly more well off part of Paris but that didn't mean that it avoided the ruffians and thugs that prowled the streets. He just continued to work; continued to rid his mind of his love. Everything seemed to remind him of the alcoholic artist and he always found himself glancing back to the spot where he had found Grantaire's limp body that fateful night around half a year ago now. The fight outside grew louder but he continued to ignore it, only pausing for a moment to grumble to himself about the trails of the oppressed before returning to his speech with a diminishing vigour. After a few minutes of every word he wrote reminding him of a moment with Grantaire, Enjolras threw his new fountain pen across the room in despair and anger. It shattered against the wall and a black ink trailed down the wallpaper, mingling with the absinthe stain that still remained. "What's got ya so angry pretty boy?" a voice from the doorway chuckled and Enjolras froze.

He hurriedly turned around to face the men who had just picked his door. Two massive men loomed in the doorway with a pair of identical twins waiting in the background. "Now Monsieur Enjolras," he began but was interrupted by Enjolras.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, jumping to his feet and reaching for his knife.

"My litl' disgrace of a brother practically wurships da ground you walk on," the leader chuckled stepping closer. It didn't take long for Enjolras to work out who they were talking about.

"Nicolas? Is he here?" Enjolras panicked, he would not be able to cope with a robbery and seeing Grantaire in one night.

"He's outside, but he's a little bit tied up at the moment," one of the twins laughed and Enjolras' face dropped. Grantaire was in trouble; how much trouble he didn't know, but there was trouble. And it was all his fault, again.

"Now as I was sayin before I was rudely interrupted, if you stay out of the way and let us tie you up then this doesn't have to get messy. We just relieve you of some of your riches," he explained as the rest of the gang walked in pocketing Enjolras' valuables.

"I will not concede to this tyranny!" Enjolras exclaimed, standing tall and strong in the face of adversity.

"_Jumeaux_! Tie him up!" the leader ordered and the twins grabbed both his arms from behind. Enjolras jumped; he was sure that the duo had been by the door moments ago, yet they were now behind him equipped with ropes. He stuggled in vain as they pulled him to the floor and tied his hands to his desk. He tried to move the desk but it was too heavy for his bound wrists. So instead Enjolras resorted to kicking; although that was soon stopped by another rope. Enjolras shouted all the profanities his mind could come up with at his assailants. That was until a gag was added to his bondage, then he felt entirely helpless as they took most of his francs. Money wasn't a problem and he wasn't the type to get attached to items; it was the fact these men had the audacity to break into his house, tie him up and rob him. All Enjolras could do was silently watch as his home turned into a sea of his fragile books and papers. Once the deed had been done, their leader stood towering over the bound Enjolras. An evil smirk spread across his face as he addressed his lackeys. "Go get the weasel, time to have some fun," he chuckled and the other thug darted down the stairs, displaying a sick glee.

Enjolras' eyes widened in shock and horror as a broken and bound Grantaire stumbled up the stairs, being held and pushed by one of his brothers. He tried his best to keep in the sorrow and fear, of what his selfish actions had done to the youngest Grantaire brother, off his face but he was sure some must have trickled through. Grantaire's hands were untied roughly and he was sent flying to the floor by a kick to the back of the knee. "Get up rat!" the leader shouted and Grantaire used the bed to get clumsily to his feet. Enjolras could smell the alcohol on Grantaire's whole being but he knew that wasn't the reason he was stumbling. Enjolras tried in vain to shout out to the cynic but the gag stopped any noise from his frantic pleas.

"What do you want Louis?" Grantaire snarled to the leader. "Decided you do need my help after all?" he taunted, but was silenced by a club to the back of the head, sending him spinning. Enjolras bit back the tears at his love being used as a punching bag by his own family.

"We do need your help," Louis smiled as one of the twins threw Grantaire a loaded pistol. "Shoot him," Louis ordered casually pointing to Enjolras.

Enjolras' heart filled with horror; Grantaire would never kill him but he dreaded to think what the brutes would do to Grantaire if he refused.

"No!" Grantaire exclaimed throwing the gun onto the floor and kicking it away. "I refuse Louis!" he screamed as the twins pinned his arms painfully behind his back.

"You are not in any position to refuse my requests runt," he snarled and kneed Grantaire in the groin. Grantaire let out a cry of pain and doubled over only held up by the twin's grip on his arms. Enjolras felt his loves pain and couldn't help crying out through the gag at the sight. "What was that, pretty boy? You want to see more?" Louis chuckled as tears gathered in Enjolras' eyes. Enjolras desperately shook his head but Louis just laughed in his face. He kneed Grantaire, dropping his head and a sickening crack echoed throughout the room ingraining itself in Enjolras' brain. Grantaire was still conscious but Enjolras could see his head spinning. He just wanted it to stop; he just wanted them to stop tormenting his Grantaire. "Hey wake up rat!" Louis shouted, slapping Grantaire so he gasped for breath once again. "You need to be awake for our fun times tonight," he chuckled, tightly squeezing Grantaire's groin. Enjolras cried out as Grantaire cried out. It was all his fault; Grantaire was in pain and was suffering all because of him. He struggled against his bonds with all his might but nothing came loose. The door thumped back open and everyone turned to face it. Two figures stood in the shadows of the doorway.

"Well, what do we have here?" the taller one snarled.


	4. Chapter 4

_**24/6/13**_

**I'M BACK FROM DUKE OF EDINBURGH! And everything hurts; I have slightly twisted my ankle, cut my thumb open, massive headache, got lost for an hour and a half and every muscle in my body aches ... NEVER AGAIN!**

**So, then from Tuesday to Thursday I am in London at Wimbledon (Tennis). Then Friday I am at a taster day at Sheffield Uni … SO it is unlikely anything else will be updated due to the pure chaos involved in my life currently apart from this (I have chapters pre-written). I apologise profusely!**

**Anyway, reviews … I thank you greatly!**

Darci the Thespian – Well read on to find out …it is possible

Stagepageandscreen – Wow thanks, I try my best. That bit with Grantaire getting beaten up was actually added in later on as a moment of inspiration when I was revising English (what am I going to do without English?) and it was just perfect. And you cannot write a scene like that without putting those lines in. You'll have to read to find out … it could be anyone.

TotaltotheMax - *bows* Just read to find out ;) DofE is not fun … I am drained of all energy and everything hurts but Wimbledon will be so AWESOME!

**Chapter 4**

"I left you miscreants for a few hours and get found by Erica as you are beating up Nic!" the man shouted full of anger. Louis let Grantaire fall to the floor and he let out a small moan of pain with his eyes clamped firmly shut. Enjolras tried to move towards his love but he was still tied too tight to move.

"Sorry papa, we were trying to teach the kid a lesson. Make him tough like you always let us do," Xavier protested.

"He is tough you fools, and do you know what the punishment is for beating my favourite boy?" he asked, deliberately emphasizing the favourite. The little girl, Erica, pulled on Grantaire's father's jacket. "Yes my dear?" he asked softly. This man was a strange one; he seemed to care for Grantaire but if this was anything to by then he encouraged fighting amongst his children.

"Shall I take da boy somewhere elwse, Papa?" She asked sweetly and the old man smiled.

"That would be a great idea sweetie," he nodded and the five or six year old girl neatly jumped over Grantaire's shaking, hunched over form and untied Enjolras.

"Come on Enjolwas?" Erica smiled, taking his hand and leading him out of his house. "Nic and Papa won't wet anyfing appen to your stuff," she added, just in case he was worried. He didn't want to leave but he knew that if he protested now he could get both of them in more trouble. And he could not risk Grantaire's life.

As he was pulled out of the door by the tiny five year old, Enjolras cast a desperate look back over his shoulder. Grantaire was hunched over on his hands and knees, panting as he tried to recover from the previous abuse. Enjolras felt his heart twist in pain for his love. Grantaire slowly and jerkly twisted his head to face Enjolras. All Enjolras could see in Grantaire's eyes was anger, the pure unbridled storm that raged behind the murky brown exterior. He hoped it wasn't directed at him. He would not be able to bare it if after all this Grantaire loathed him. _Does he blame me for all this? He should._ Enjolras knew that everything that had happened was his fault; but he still prayed Grantaire wouldn't see it that way. He searched in the murky pools for that twinkle of joy and life that had permanently resided there before he disappeared. It was gone. Enjolras felt the tears gather in his own eyes and he hurriedly brushed them away. The door clunked shut in the wind and Enjolras tried to compose himself before addressing Erica.

"So, Erica. How many is there in the Grantaire family?" Enjolras as they walked slowly towards the Musain and he tried to rid his mind of the anger directed at him

"Well, at dis moment … in da gang there is eight," she replied, while counting them on her fingers. "In age orwder, Papa, Louis, Xavier, Fredrick, Francis, Nicolas, Erin, me," she smiled, immensely proud of herself. Enjolras couldn't help smiling along; she was such a sweet little girl to have grown out of the Grantaire family.

"What about the rest? Are there any not in the gang?" Enjolras asked, he was curious about his love's family and little Erica seemed eager to tell him this.

"In total dere is ten of us," she beamed and this time Enjolras couldn't keep the shock off his face. As an only child he could not understand such a large family. "Dere used to be twelve but two died," she added as if it was just an afterthought, not a loss of life. "Jean-Henrie is da oldest. He lewft to go to London and become a lawyer. He is fortey-eight," she explained and Enjolras nodded. "Den it is Mawrie! She had a twin cawlled Laszlo but he died in a knife fight when he was twenty-two. Marie is a maid in Marseilles and tis turty-five now. I fink she works for your parwents," Erica added casually with her usual beaming smile. Looking back as it yearly visits to Marseilles he did remember a maid called Marie, she was his mother's favourite in the kitchen staff. Enjolras nodded encouraging her to continue. "Den it is Louis, who you met, he is turty," she explained and Enjolras couldn't help an involuntary flinch at the mention of the leader of the Grantaire's. "Den Xavier, who was da tall one. He is tweny nine," Erica described while counting them off on her fingers.

"Den it is Nicky, your boyfwriend," she grinned as if her little smile was taunting him.

"Well, he's not my boyfriend anymore," he replied, quickly brushing away the tears gathering in his eyes.

"But Nic wuves you?" she replied with confusion spreading across her face. "Do wu not wuve Nic?" she asked, pulling on Enjolras' sleeve.

"I wish it was that simple little one," he sighed, squeezing her hand. "Now back onto your story alright," he encouraged and her little beaming smile returned.

"Dere was Eleanor who died when she was four but would have been twenty one," Erin continued and Enjolras' mind jumped back to the picture in Grantaire's scrapbook: _RIP Eleanor Grantaire 1807-1812._ That solemn scene still sent shivers through his soul and twisted his heart. "Erin is twenty and she is like a muther to me and elps round da house and looks after us all," she grinned, obviously fond of her big sister. Enjolras could remember Erin from when he was younger; she was always the loud and spirited one. "Clarette lives wif Gav and his gamins at de elefant, she is forteen. And den dere is me, I am five," Erin grinned and Enjolras smiled.

"A very old girl then," he teased and she giggled.

"I fink we could go back now," she murmured with a little yawn. Enjolras smiled, and gently picked the thin five year old up and held her to his chest. She snuggled against his jacket and rested her sleepy head on his shoulder. The church bells tolled midnight as the littlest Grantaire child drifted to sleep, nuzzling her face in Enjolras' blonde curls. Her jet black waves spread across his shoulder and her little hands gripped his coat as she slept. Enjolras smiled weakly and walked back to his apartment.

XXX

Grantaire hated his brothers with a passion only rivalled by Enjolras' towards the cause. Flames sputtered round his eyes and the pain was the only thing stopping him from diving at Louis that instant. He turned to look at Enjolras as his Apollo was led away and the fire only intensified as he watched his Apollo full of sorrow. He would kill them; kill them all in revenge for them even daring to touch Enjolras, let alone tie him up. He would have blood.

Once Enjolras and Erica had left the apartment and the door had clunked shut, the apartment erupted. "What in god's name happened here!" Papa Grantaire exclaimed standing eye to eye with Louis. Grantaire still lay hunched up on the ground; his body was racked with pain from his groin and ribs and the world seemed to throb with every breath. "I thought the rules were you let the victim go or you kill him immediately! Since when did we force others to kill and tie people up?" he shouted with a power only the old man demonstrated. Louis, Xavier and the twins were looking embarrassed at their feet while tolerating the scolding from their father.

"We were trying to teach Nic a lesson," Louis murmured.

"He was about to ruin a sting because of old friendships," Xavier added for effect. Papa Grantaire let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead.

"All of you were in the wrong," he stated firmly as Grantaire finally managed to sit himself up. "Louis, Xavier, Fredrick and Francis; you should not be seriously beating up your brother and tying people up … under any circumstances!" Papa Grantaire shouted and the four men nodded in agreement. "You are a family, act like it! Louis you are the leader, don't be a brute!" he yelled with his eyes darting furiously between four of his sons.

"Now you will leave me with my favourite son, and go do some real work between the four of you! And if I ever see you within a hundred yards of the Enjolras boy, I will kill you personally," he snarled and the other four skittered out of the apartment in to their respective dark holes lining the Paris streets.

Grantaire was still curled up in the corner with mind blowing pain tearing through his body. His hip burnt with a pain that he had hoped he was long rid of; the broken bone and torn muscles had never truly healed after the firing squad incident. Blood seeped out of the freshly opened cut over the still chipped bone. Sweat bedded on the younger Grantaire's forehead and his ebony curls were plastered to his head with sweat and blood. "Nic … what did I tell you? You have to close off all links to that past. You need to have no remorse," his father sighed, kneeling in front of him.

"I-I tried Papa," Grantaire mumbled. "But, they couldn't kill him … I couldn't kill him!" he cried out, his body trembling with unshed tears. "I still love him Papa, but he still hates me," he murmured with silent sobs shaking through him. His father wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"I will always be here for you Little R," he comforted him. "I would stop them hurting you but you know it is part of our family. We would fall apart without the competition," he added and Grantaire nodded.

"I know Papa," he cried onto the old man's shoulder as they sat there.

"But I want you to lead Nicolas. You are strong and you think, that's what Louis doesn't have. He don't have the brains to pull this off. And you do Nicky, you do. You just need to believe in yourself," Papa Grantaire encouraged. "Now let's get you home so Erin can have a look at that hip of yours again. I am still yet to understand why you took a bullet for this child," he smiled weakly and Grantaire chuckled hoarsely.

"I didn't just take a bullet for him … I faced a firing squad," Grantaire explained slowly getting to his feet with a little, faint smile at his father.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Enjolras arrived back at his apartment, still holding Erica against his chest. She had peacefully slept the whole walk and was refusing to relinquish her grip on his jacket. He was surprisingly fond of the littlest Grantaire; she had really rubbed off on him with her little smile and adorable accent. He felt her stir against him and she let out a little yawn that finally set his mind. "Erica sweetie?" Enjolras asked trying to compose himself.

"Yes Enjolwas?" she replied with a smile.

"I was wondering if you would like to stay with me? Your house doesn't seem the nicest place for a little girl," he explained and she smiled.

"Would I get dollies and drwesses?" she asked with a childish innocence.

"Yes you would," Enjolras chuckled while laying her gently on his bed. Erica reached up grabbing onto his waistcoat again.

"I wud wike dat Enjolwas," she grinned, hugging him and Enjolras couldn't help and grin spreading across his face. "Will I still get to see Nicky?" she asked, releasing him and Enjolras nodded hesitantly.

"If you want to, darling," he agreed as she snuggled under his blankets. Erica drifted to sleep again and Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose. What was he doing taking in a five year old girl? He could never raise a child. But yet he couldn't leave a sweet child with those thugs.

XXX

Grantaire smiled when he got the message from Enjolras. Trust his ex-lover to be the one to adopt his baby sister. At least Enjolras would be able to care for her more than the Grantaire family would. She would get whatever her little heart desired and for once she would have a real big brother. One that would take her to schools and play dates and play with her in the park; Enjolras was good brother material. And Combeferre would make sure she was looked after properly; fed, clothed etc. It was for the best. He threw the note in the fire and reloaded his pistol with a sigh. It was time for work.

XXX

The next afternoon, Enjolras was walking with a giddily skipping Erica to the Café Musain. He would need to introduce her to the guys and he needed Cosette and Musichetta's help to know what to do and what to buy. He had already bought her a new dress and a new winter coat which she had treasured like they were the best gifts on the planet; those and the little mouse soft toy that now resided in her coat pocket. He could still picture her face when he had pulled the little toy out of his pocket. He smile spread and her face lit up with a brilliant brightness as she took it on her tiny hands. The toy rested neatly and her palm and she treasured it close to her heart; she kept it in her top pocket so it was just resting over her heart. They both walked into the Café Musain and at seeing the students acting loud and boisterous, Erica hid behind Enjolras' legs. "It'll be fine little one," he whispered in reassurance while squeezing her hand. She nodded timidly eying the rest of the Amis.

Enjolras cleared his throat and the frantic revolutionaries fell quiet. "I have a little announcement to make," he stated nervously. "Do to desperate circumstances, little Erica is coming to live with me," he smiled as Erica poked her head round from behind his legs only to pounced upon by a flying Cosette.

"Hello, sweetie," she giggled as Erica came out from round the back still not letting go of Enjolras' hand. "Where did Ricard find you then?" she asked with an angelic smile that cause Erica to smile along.

"My bwother couldn't wook after me so Enjolwas took me in," Erica smiled at Cosette. She liked Cosette; Cosette was nice and friendly to the little urchin girl.

"And who's your brother Erica?" Cosette asked, not noticing Enjolras instantly tense.

"Nicolwas Grantaire," she grinned and the place fell eerily silent as everyone stared at Enjolras. Erica just looked around oblivious to the shock around her. Combeferre was glaring at Enjolras and telling him to come explain himself through their brotherly nonverbal communication.

"Erica sweetie, would you mind staying with Cosette for a moment?" Enjolras asked and she nodded, already in love with the blonde.

"I know what you are up to Ricard and I do not approve!" Combeferre growled as they walked into the corridor.

"I don't know what you mean," Enjolras stuttered utterly confused.

"You can't have Nicolas in your life so you settle for his little sister, who I have noticed is the one out of them all that looks the most like our Grantaire. You idiot!" Combeferre exclaimed as Enjolras stared at him bemused. Was that what he had done? Had he felt that connection toward Erica because of Grantaire? That would be a logical thought; they did look very similar. He cast a glace through the slightly open door at his little charge. He saw her sat on the table laughing with Cossette and Jehan; she was showing them her little mouse.

"Actually Lucien! I know exactly why I took her in!" Enjolras shouted back to Combeferre. "Because when Nicolas was that age we couldn't do anything to stop him having to live and grow up in that place. Now I hope I can make up for not saving him by saving her!" he exclaimed passionately, looking bemused when Combeferre's smile grew.

"You needed to know that your intentions were good my brother," he smiled, clapping Enjolras on the back before walking back towards the main room.

"Don't you mean that you needed to know?" Enjolras shouted back still confused by Combeferre's cryptic conversation.

"No!" Combeferre shouted back as he disappeared through the door. Enjolras stared at where his brother used to be. He could never understand how Combeferre managed to manipulate his thoughts so casually. He had just been tricked into realising his own good intentions; that man must be a wizard, or a very good lawyer. He was wasted as a doctor.

XXX

Grantaire leant on the doorframe of the back door of the Café Musain. He was like a ghost in a place of jollity and happiness. He was a ghost in this life now. There was nothing left for him in _Les Amis de l'ABC_. He was not welcome in Enjolras' life anymore and no matter how much it pained him; _his wish is my command,_Grantaire thought with a sigh. Grantaire kept on telling himself that he was just there to check on Erica; to check his little sister was happy with filling the Grantaire hole in this raggedy family. But yet his eyes kept on drifting towards the marble Apollo sat on one of the tables next Erica. Just, oh God he missed Enjolras. He missed him with every fibre of his shattered heart. Was it bad that he was jealous of his little sister getting a road out of the life of hell to live with Enjolras? Grantaire guessed he could leave the Grantaires again. But yet that would mean leaving Paris. That would mean leaving Enjolras for good; no more moments like this, of him watching the proceedings from the corner of your eye. He was the spirit that you thought you saw, but of course it must have been your imagination. As soon as Enjolras turned towards the door, thinking he saw something, Grantaire was gone once more. Enjolras shook his head assuming it was his hyperactive imagination tricking him.

Grantaire sat solemnly round the corner from the café. "I assume you were checking on 'Rica, runt?" Xavier snarled from where he had just appeared next to the youngest Grantaire brother. "'Cause if you were looking at that boy of yours again then me and Louis would not go easy on you this time," he snarled at Grantaire. He was really not in the mood for those two today. He had already been replaced in the Musain. The gap had been open for a few months and already they had someone new; his littlest sister, as if the concept didn't pain him enough. He tried to be happy for Erica but he desperately wanted to be in her position once more. He had faced a firing squad with a one in a million plan for Enjolras; and this was what he received. But yet he couldn't bring himself to be angry with Enjolras either. His mind and soul were in an endless turmoil.

"Louis and I," Grantaire stated without thinking.

"What did you just say weasel?" Xavier snarled.

"I said it is Louis and I not Louis and me," Grantaire replied casually earning a hard slap from Louis.

"I swear if you dare correct me again you have no tongue to roll your stupid remarks off," he exclaimed kicking Grantaire in the head once again. The world spun once again as black splotches distorted his vision. He stayed down on the floor and that seemed to satisfy Xavier. And that was his life now. Lose his tongue for correcting someone's grammar.


	6. Chapter 6

_**2/7/13**_

**So guys, I hate to be a review whore but … I need your reviews! I just want to know if I am ruining My Apollo Series with this sequel. Please review even if it is to tell me if you don't like it. I don't even care if you flame … I just need to know if this is worth continuing at this rate.**

**On the topic of my rate, as I am participating in Camp NaNoWriMo for the whole of July so my updates will be much slower but you will still be hearing from me I assure you! And on the fifteenth of July I am going on holiday for two weeks so my schedule is out the window!**

**And I am now replying to your reviews by PM except if you are a guest!**

**Chapter 6**

Enjolras walked with Erica to the one place he didn't want to go. Erica had been invited home by her father to pick up all her belongings as she was finally properly moving out. It had only been a week since Erica entered his life, and he already couldn't remember her not living there. But it still pained him to see her lying in the couch Grantaire always ended up sprawled on when he was staying. Her brown curls were the mirror of his and they had the same quirky personality. Enjolras was beginning to doubt if he had actually done this for the right reasons. She was so like him. And it wounded him every morning when he woke up with his head nestled in brown curls; just to fully open his eyes and to find a different body against him than the one he always wished would be there. It crushed his heart but he loved Erica; just in a completely different way to her older brother.

The Grantaire household loomed above him and Enjolras swallowed nervously. It was strange to see a five year old girl comforting a twenty two year old. "It'll be okay Enjy, Nicky and Papa won't let anything happen," she smiled as her little feet jumped up the stairs. Enjolras wished he could have the certainty that the little girl displayed so casually. She pushed the dilapidated old door open and skipped in before Enjolras had even reached the top of the stairs. He hurried in after her; he refused to leave her in there alone once again. The house still made him cringe; everything was falling apart and the darkness clung to you as soon as you stepped over the threshold. Enjolras could only see the outlines of furniture but stumbled through. "Erica?" he shouted through the shroud of darkness. "Where are you, sweetie?" he called out with slightly more concern. A hand grabbed his arm and another wrapped round his mouth. Enjolras lashed out with all his power but the man was too strong. He clamped his jaws down on the man's hand and he growled in pain but didn't move.

"Just chloroform him already!" a familiar voice snarled. It was Louis, head of the Grantaire clan and man who seemed to harbour a grudge against the boys who taught Nic to be a respectable human being. Because Louis hated respectable human beings; Erica always told Enjolras it was because he couldn't be one so he didn't want anyone to. He had chuckled at the thought, which he brushed off as five-year-old girl logic, but now it actually seemed like a good theory. A cloth was pressed over his mouth and the smell jutted him out of his thoughts. Enjolras renewed his struggles but unconsciousness claimed his mind.

XXX

Enjolras woke up with a groan. His head was fuzzy and the room was a blur. "And our little bourgeois is awake," Louis chuckled, lifting Enjolras' chin up. After examining Enjolras thoroughly he chuckled again, "I can see why littl' R dotes on this one!"

Francis laughed along."A real fancy boy," he agreed and Enjolras snarled. If there was anything Enjolras hated more than the monarchy, it was being called a fancy boy. He tried to move away from Louis' grip but his arms and legs were all tied up too tight for him to move more than an inch.

"I am not a fancy boy!" he snarled, almost forgetting that he was a prisoner.

"I don't think you are in a position to be arguing with us kiddo," Xavier smirked, pressed his foot down slowly on Enjolras' ankle. He bit his lip to stop himself crying out at the pain, even when you could hear the bone start to crack. The other three men just stood and watched as Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to escape the agony.

XXX

He didn't know how long he had been down there. But it had to be around a week since he last saw the outside of the dark cellar. The brothers had fed him so form of gruel once a day and kept a bucket of grimy water full in the corner. So they weren't trying to kill him; and they didn't seem to want anything from him. All that happened was that one of them came down, gave him food, roughed him up a bit and then left, submerging him in the darkness once again. Every part of his body ached and the room was slowly shrinking in on him. The darkness was crushing and the stench was becoming unbearable. Enjolras found himself curled up in the corner panting as his head swum. They had to be looking for him; the Amis had to be looking for him. And their heroes; Grantaire and his masked accomplice, _Le Libérateur et Le Révolutionnaire_. They had to be coming to save him; they always did. The mystery of _Le Révolutionnaire_ still puzzled him; during one of his missions, Grantaire had picked up a partner in rescue that was like a vigilante in training. He let out a deep sigh that bordered on a sob. Enjolras hated having to rely on others; he was an independent soul but not even Apollo could live without others. Without his Dionysus.

XXX

"Where are they both?" Combeferre cursed out loud and everyone looked at him sympathetically. Enjolras was everything to him and he had been missing for a week now. He was nowhere to be seen and now Combeferre couldn't find Grantaire anywhere either. They needed _La Libérateur_ to find Enjolras. Enjolras never missed meetings and he hadn't been home at all; Combeferre slammed his fist onto the table. Courfeyrac jumped awake, looking bemused; Courfeyrac had been helping Combeferre look for Enjolras all night, every night and had got no sleep at all. Combeferre apologised profusely for waking him up but Courfeyrac just shrugged him off. They all knew how protective Combeferre was of his little brother and could not imagine the strain he must be under. But they didn't understand the importance of Grantaire. Combeferre needed Grantaire for these sorts of things. _La Révolutionnaire_was nothing without _La Libérateur_. Combeferre was _La Révolutionnaire_but he wasn't a hero; he was an extra set of hands to help Grantaire in his hair-brained schemes. He couldn't do this by himself; he felt hopeless. His mind swum and he found himself struggling to breathe. Combeferre's chest squeezed tighter and his head pounded the room was a blur. He fell onto the floor hyperventilating.

The air would just not come; his lungs starved and all become one large blur. He could hear talking but it was as if he was hearing through cotton wool yet they were shouting in his head. Someone touched his shoulders but the panic consumed his whole world; Combeferre squeezed his eyes closed. He prayed that when he opened them it would be Enjolras holding him; his heart clenched and breathing became even harder as the reality hit. "'Ferre? Lucien!" the voice shouted but Combeferre couldn't respond. "Breathe for me Luce, in and out," the voice reassured him. He opened his eyes slowly as his breathing slowed to find Jehan holding him.

"I-I need him home …I need him," Combeferre mumbled with tear gathering in his eyes. Everyone knew that the two men were joined by some form of invisible bond but this was the first time Combeferre had broken down without Enjolras. Jehan held him close and kissed him on the top of his head tenderly.

"We'll find him 'Ferre, I promise," Jehan whispered. Everyone was too absorbed in their friend's troubles to notice the swoosh of a caped figure leaving through the back door. Jehan's promise would be fulfilled … if_La Libérateur_ had anything to do with it!


	7. Chapter 7

_**31/7/13**_

**Hey again. Finally here it is the next chapter of If This Is My Apollo's Wish! Sorry I have been on holiday and as most of you will know my aunt died last week and her funeral is on Friday. So I may be writing I may not!**

**Chapter 7**  
Enjolras woke to thudding above his head. The floorboards were only weak above him, strong enough to keep him confined, but thin enough as so he could hear everything that was going on around him. The noise that snapped him out of his period of unconsciousness, sleep was too nice a word for it, was the slamming of a door and a chorus of stomping footsteps. Enjolras had been there two weeks now and he had almost given up on any hope of being rescued by his friends. If there was anyone looking then they would have found him by now; surely Grantaire's brothers were top of the list of people that wanted to kidnap him. Enjolras sighed in despair; it was bad he could even come up with a list. The footsteps continued to thump until he heard a door swing open. "You bastards!" one of the newcomers exclaimed. "I thought I said leave him alone and what do you do? Kidnap him!" he screamed. Enjolras knew they were talking about him, but who was his unlikely rescuer?

"Sorry _boss_," Louis replied, with unnecessary emphasis on the "boss." "But we don't want to take orders from you anymore; your boy is easy picking," he snarled in reply. Enjolras frowned. "Your boy..." Why would someone here have claim over him? But his head was swimming; it was hard enough to keep track of the conversation. He couldn't be thinking this puzzle through as well.

"I'll kill you," the first voice hissed furiously.  
"Calm down Nic," another voice soothed and Enjolras perked up. It was Nicolas, his Grantaire, not one of the horrid ones. He cursed himself for not recognising the voice of his loved one; Louis must have hit him on the head harder than he thought. His head began to spin again as the Grantaire family feud raged on.

"I will not calm down!" Grantaire screamed, storming forwards. All Enjolras' thoughts were on Grantaire, he sent a frantic prayer out that Grantaire wouldn't get hurt and they would both get out of here safely. The door swung open and instinctively, Enjolras cowered in the corner. He knew it was weak but sometimes self-preservation called for you to look weak.

"Hey, it's okay Ricard," a soft female voice soothed, holding him in her arms. "It's Marie. Do you remember me, sweetheart?" she asked with a soft smile. Of course he remembered Marie, she had been a maid in his step father's household since he was around twelve and he moved in. When he was fourteen and before he realised he was homosexual, he housed a secret little crush in the petit blonde. Enjolras nodded with a small smile, "Now Erin is going to get you out of here while the rest of us deal with those three. Please go," Marie begged and despite wanting to stay and help Nicolas, Enjolras agreed. Her face disappeared and was soon replace by a girl who was the exact replica of Grantaire as a female.

"Okay Ricard. You're going to need to stand up for me," she soothed as he heard Marie's footsteps echoing away. Enjolras nodded; he wasn't an invalid, he could stand up perfectly well... He was just slightly out of practice, that was all. It took a few minutes to get to his feet and a few more to cross the room but by the time they were faced with climbing the saris, his dizziness had vanished and he could walk unaided. The brothers had not done any serious damage to his body but he was still weak from the lack of food and movement. They slowly climbed the stairs while Erin was trying to distract him from the unsettling noises coming from above but the worry for the youngest Grantaire boy was evident on his face. They managed to slide out as a three on three war was tearing apart the house. Marie and the other Grantaire on Nicolas' side were holding back Francis and Fredrick as Louis was getting his face thoroughly beaten in by Nicolas. He was like a man possessed as he pinned Louis down with unbelievable strength for a short and stubby man. Erin pulled him out the door hurriedly as Fredrick wrestled his way out of Marie's grasp and ran towards the fleeing duo. They ran as fast through the streets as fast as Enjolras could manage until the painted signs on the roads turned from blue to red. Enjolras had no idea what that meant but it seemed to comfort Erin as they slowed to a walk and Enjolras could finally catch his breath.

However, it wasn't long before footsteps ricocheted off the close walls; but this time Erin didn't run. She stood firm, pulling Enjolras behind her to protect him. Usually Enjolras would protest and step away, determined that he did not need protecting. But he didn't know what was coming and Erin did; that put him at a disadvantage, Enjolras hated being at a disadvantage. The footsteps drew closer and slowed to a jog. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the little nursemaid Grantaire," a malicious voice laughed from the shadows.

"Not now Parnasse," Erin snarled. "Just let us through," she almost begged. Enjolras tensed, he knew where they were; they had run out of St-Germain des Pres, Grantaire territory into Montparnasse district, Patron Minette territory. He didn't know which was worse.

"Aw darling," Montparnasse cooed and stroked her cheek. "You should speak better to your fiancé," he chuckled, forcefully kissing her. Erin tolerated his rough play with her.

"I said not now, 'Parnasse," she snapped, pushing him away. "We just want to pass through. She pushed Enjolras away, towards the back streets. But as soon as Erin stood touching him, Babet was behind and had him tightly in his grasp. No matter how much he kicked and struggled to larger man would not release his hold; Enjolras was trapped, again. Montparnasse prowled past Erin to examine his catch,

"Well, well, if it isn't the revolutionary," he chuckled.

"Don't you dare touch him," Erin hissed, pulling on his coat.

"What would you do about it?" he chuckled, turning to face Erin once more. "What would you do if we stripped him down, took all his belongings, killed him and threw him into the Seine? You cannot do anything Mademoiselle Grantaire, you are mine," he growled and nipped her neck. Erin squeezed her eyes shut and reluctantly submitted.

"And what is this?" another familiar voice shouted from the shadows. Eponine stepped out and confronted her ex-lover. "While Papa is away I am in charge. Let them both go," she growled.

"We are just doing our jobs, Eppy darling," Montparnasse taunted as he moved away from Erin, much to Enjolras' relief. He dreaded to think of such a sweet girl with a man such as Montparnasse.

"These boys are under my protection. Let him go!" she snarled and the other members backed away, dropping Enjolras limply to the floor. At seeing his entourage falter, Montparnasse backed away; "I will get my fun Eponine," he huffed and the Minette disappeared, leaving Eponine and her back up along with the trespassers. Eponine sunk to her knees next to Enjolras and helped his weak body up with a sigh. "What happened, Erin?" Eponine asked the other girl.

"Louis and the twins held him captive to get to Nicolas. We rescued him and I ran while Nic and Henri fought them off," Erin explained and Eponine's fists tightened.

"No one hurts Nic," she growled. They had been close when they were young; when Eponine moved to Paris and into the Montparnasse district, her parents beat her and so did his. They met when Grantaire was hiding from his brothers and Eponine was running from her father. They sat and played in the sand with them each on their own side of the boundary. From then on, they met every time one of them was hurt and comforted each other. She was like a sister to him and he was a brother to her; and she would not let him get hurt. "Take the boys," she said to Erin and gestured to the two young boys. "Get Nicolas and Henri out of there safe. I'll take Enjolras to safe ground," she stated and Erin nodded solemnly. After planting a soft kiss on Enjolras' head she was gone and Enjolras' was fading. "Come on Enj; let's get you to the Musain. You'll be safe there," she smiled, helping him to his feet slowly. Enjolras nodded weakly but the adrenaline was wearing off quickly and the world was fading round the edges. Grantaire would be safe soon and he was going home. Maybe everything would turn out alright in the end. It never stayed that way though.


	8. Chapter 8

_**15/8/13**_

**My friends, soon this arc will be coming to a close, so I will be taking a break from this to write the other half of this story then publish. I predict roughly one more chapter to this part.**

**P.S – I am now on FictionPress to put my novel attempt up. Search guineamania to find me! It would mean the world if people would help me improve it.**

**Chapter 8**

Grantaire sat on his mattress, nursing his broken fist. He came out of the fight a lot better off than Louis, but he still had a fractured knuckle and a black eye too add to his plethora of bruises and wounds. Louis and the twins were still part of the Grantaire clan; unfortunately he couldn't kick them out, but now they submitted to his authority more than they previously did. Jean-Henri settled down next to him with a sigh and let the younger Grantaire lean on his shoulder for comfort. Henri massaged his brother's palm gently to try and sooth him. "You can always talk to me Petit R," he soothed as tears welled up in Grantaire's eyes.

"I want him back," Grantaire whispered into the top of his eldest brother's sleeve. "But he sent me away, I can't live being like his mistress," he added with tears staining the silky fabric.

"If you love him Nic, then you will find a way," he comforted with his long scribe's fingers curling through Grantaire's untameable brown curls.

"What would you do Jean, if Hannah left you and you wanted her back?" Grantaire asked solemnly. Hannah was Jean-Henri's English wife who was more like a mother to Grantaire than his mother was.

"I would get her something she had always wanted and sincerely beg for her to take me back," Jean explained and was thrown backwards when Grantaire jumped up to his feet.

"Jean! You are a genius," Grantaire grinned, hugging his favourite brother tightly. "Do you know where I could get some gunpowder?" he grinned.

XXX

Enjolras was not fully recovered but no one could persuade him to stay at home. He had turned Grantaire away because he needed to focus on the revolution; a little injury was not going to stop him now. There was so much to do and he had no time for resting; the revolution always had to come first. But he couldn't focus; the table in the corner was empty and silent. He just wanted his love back; he would do anything to convince him he was still loved. His voice tailed off right in the middle of his passionate speech but the words slid out of his mind and for the first time in his life, Enjolras was speechless. He thumped down to sit on the hard wooden table, dented from the numerous speeches he had conducted from its heights. The café slowly returned to confused mumblings as all eyes were on Enjolras' hunched over form. He had been an idiot; Enjolras needed Grantaire to be there to be able to focus on the revolution. He needed the cynical comments to keep him grounded. He needed the light hearted joking to take the pressure away from him. He needed Grantaire. But how could he ever convince him to come back after what Enjolras did. He needed to make sure that Grantaire would know that Enjolras wanted to be with him for as long as they shall live. Combeferre sunk next to him on the table as Enjolras made his decision; there was only one thing to do. "Combeferre, will you finish the meeting?" he sighed while getting to his feet.

"Of course," his lifelong friend replied and Enjolras was darting out of the Musain. There was no time to waste.

Enjolras returned to the apartment in the middle of the night with precious cargo. Erica was asleep on his bed and Cosette was curled up in a chair watching her. "Thanks for looking after her, Cosette," Enjolras smiled as she spotted him.

"Enjolras thank god you're okay!" Cosette exclaimed as she jumped up to hug him. "We were so worried," she giggled and the noise woke Erica.

"Papa!" she screamed and jumped on him. Erica had never called him Papa before; and in a strange way he liked it. She noticed the mistake and blushed though, "I mean, Enjolwas."

"You can call me Papa if you want, sweetheart," he smiled as he kissed her forehead. Erica nodded with a beaming smile and buried her head in his curls.

"Stway wiv me," she whispered as her mouth twisting into a yawn. Enjolras nodded.

"Of course," Enjolras smiled and sat on his bed. Cosette left after explain where the food and toys were; leaving them both alone.

"I love you, Papa," Erica whispered as her eyes flickered shut.

"I love you too, Rica," Enjolras whispered in response.

XXX

The next morning Grantaire finally built up the courage to see Enjolras. Erica had left with Cosette to go to the park while Enjolras and her fiancé Marius were at the meeting. It was a perfect opportunity to confront the revolutionary with no interference. So why couldn't he knock on the door. Every time he raised his shaking fist the will deserted him and the little voice in the back of his head screamed, _"Run away, he doesn't love you! Run away!"_But he was always stubborn, so he tried again. It was on the sixth time he finally managed to knock on the door and deliberately put the barrels of gunpowder behind him so he could not run away. The door swung open and it was blatantly obvious that Enjolras was not expecting Grantaire to be there in the slightest. "'Taire, I was about to send you a message…we need to talk," he mumbled and this time it was Grantaire's turn to be shocked. Enjolras wanted to talk to him?

"I brought a peace offering," Grantaire replied weakly and picked up the four barrels of gunpowder Jean-Henri had managed to supply him with. Enjolras' face lit up and it was obvious his mind was whirring with how this gift would increase their chances when the time came. They stowed all the powder away before sitting down across from each other. Grantaire was the first to speak. "I'm so sorry but I love you Enjolras and I will never stop loving you. If you love me too then please take me back! If not then tell me and put me out of my misery, I can't live like this!" he exclaimed and was almost in tears when the words spilled out. Enjolras sat there silently and Grantaire's heart shattered once again into tiny fragments.

"R, I, I, I want you back," Enjolras stuttered, still in shock from Grantaire's exclamation. "I didn't think you would want me," he added afterward.

"You idiot!" Grantaire exclaimed. "Enjolras I would love you to the sun and back. You are the only thing I have that is worth living for and thinking you didn't love me turning everything a depressing monotone!" he ranted and was so distracted that he didn't noticed Enjolras reach into his pocket and pull out a box.

"Grantaire," Enjolras whispered drawing the ranting drunkard's attention back to him. He dropped down from the chair and held up the box. "Nicolas Grantaire, will you marry me?"


	9. Chapter 9

_**25/8/13**_

**And here it is the finale to Arc 1 of If That Is My Apollo's Wish. I hope you have enjoyed this segment and I will get the next part up as early as I can for you guys ;) And sorry for the really short epilogue but there is not much more to say :)**

**P.S – I am now on FictionPress to put my novel attempt up. Search guineamania to find me! It would mean the world if people would help me improve it.**

**Chapter 9 (Epilogue to Part 1)**

Grantaire stood there speechless, staring at the ring. Eventually, he seemed to regain function of his vocal cord and managed to choke out a response. "Yes, but no," he stuttered, still in shock. Enjolras's heart visibly dropped and his head hung limp in dejection. "Yes I would love to marry you it is my biggest dream," Grantaire exclaimed, causing Enjolras spirits to lift once again. "But no because it is illegal. No one will do it and if we are found out we could be arrested!" he declared, rubbing a hand across his eyes wearily.

"I thought we could just do a bond. Not a marriage but just oaths in front of our friends to promise to be together forever," Enjolras explained with a wariness that certainly did not suit the revolutionary. Grantaire jumped on him and wrapped his arm's round the taller man's neck and burying his face in the unruly curls.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. A million times yes you beautiful idiot," Grantaire exclaimed and Enjolras' grin spread. Enjolras softly slid the ring onto his lover's finger and suddenly felt as if his world was complete when Grantaire's fingers were laced with his own. Maybe everything was finally taking a turn for the better.

Grantaire had made sure his brothers would stay away with threats and assurances from his father before he moved in with Enjolras. The drunkard didn't have many belongings and there was definitely enough room in Enjolras' flat for Enjolras and two Grantaires to live there comfortably. Enjolras had officially adopted Erica and she now called Enjolras Papa, and Grantaire was still Nic or Nicky. They took their vows in front of the amis in the back room of the Café Musain and now both wore rings to symbolise their bonds. Enjolras could now focus more on the revolution with Grantaire by his side and with the elder Grantaire looking after Erica. Life was good and both men were happy; what more could they ask for?

**There we are. Arc 2 will be making an appearance soon but I cannot make any promises for dates. Review with ANYTHING you want to see in the next segment and I will see if it fits with the plot. And to you I say, Au Revoir … not goodbye, but See you again ;)**


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